You're In Over Your Head, Kid
by Sister Sytrik
Summary: Massie wants a rocker boyfriend, but he wants nothing to do with her. She needs to enlist the help of a girl she hates to show her the rocking ropes, but she might just fall for the wrong guy and ruin her chances, her reputation, and lose a friend.
1. Chapter 1

Massie Block was a hopeless romantic, in her own special way. She didn't really care for boys. They were accesories. Occaisionally she would get attatched to one, but fashion changes, and so do boyfriends. However, when she was dating a boy, he better treat her like a goddamn princess. Roses, clothes, cutesy picnics in the parks... You name it. But that was the side she hid. In person, she was aloof, and boys were only secondary. So, when she saw her new favorite actress Lucy Dimon talking about all the perks of a rockstar boyfriend, she took it as a challenge. She was bored, and it would give her something to do. Find a cute guitar guy, date him for a few weeks, then dump him. According to Lucy Dimon, rockstars are the biggest challenge, because they're bad boys. Not folk singers, or little Justin Bieber wannabes. Hard-rocking boys with no loves but a guitar. This would be the perfect oppurtunity for Massie to show off her man-eating chops.

Massie stood in front of the Rock Hut for at least twenty minutes, before she started walking towards the door. According to a flier she had seen, playing tonight was "Babyface Bundy," a group of hardrocking boys who had gotten pretty popular in New York. She took one last moment to evaluate her outfit. Her DKNY black jeans hugged her curves perfectly, and her flowy purple top softened her "come get me" expression. Dangling from her ears, was an ah-dorable pair of guitar pick earrings. She thought she looked perfectly sweet, with a little spice. According to a website she had checked out, musicians are sensitive on the inside, and need a sweet girl who understands them.

She stepped through the door, and directly into a roomful of screaming rock fans. She rolled her eyes, and attempted to march past them to get backstage. On her first attempt, she was shoved into a wall, by a blonde girl wearin a Rolling Stones shirt.

"EXCUSE ME," Massie yelled.

"What?" came the girls response, barely audible over the music.

"You shoved me, here I am just trying to get backstage! Keep your hands to yourself!" The blonde girled simply smirked, turning back to the stage, and rolled her eyes, saying,

"Damn groupies." Massie stopped to regain her composure, and started walking her way backstage. It wasn't much, just a curtain directly off the side of the stage that led to a little dressing room area, and a small private room to the right. The boys finished their set, and made their way offstage, waving, and blowing kisses.

There was four boys in the band in total. A tall curly haired bass player, with a serene smirk on his face at all times, and a muscular red-headed drummer smiling like he was a kid in Disney world. The two that caught Massie's eye however, was the guitar player, and the singer. The guitar player had a gentle expression hidden behind his massive curly black hair. Then there was the singer. He was platinum blonde, with big hair, and a proud expression. He was certainly the ladies man of the group, the one Massie wanted for herself. She never was fond of studs and leather, but they way he wore them, was nothing short of sexy. As he sauntered off the stage, she made sure to catch his eye. When she did, he turned, and began walking towards her. He had to be at least two years older than her, making him sixteen. He towered over her, and whispered,

"Hey sweet thing,want to go somewhere quieter?"


	2. Chapter 2

Massie blinked, feeling off kilter. This would be easier than she thought! Just go back there, show off some of her charms, and have him fall head-over-heels. She shook off the thought, keeping her eyes looking as sultry as she could manage. He pulled her off to the side, through the door leading to the private area. Once inside there was a bed, a sofa, and small refrigerator. It was all very shabby, but she did her best not to scrunch up her face in disgust. He looked her up and down, after shutting the door and whispered,

"So babe, what brings a nice girl like you to a dirty rock concert?" She straightened up, and said indignantly,

"I'm not that nice!" He smirked, and put his hand on a slender hip,

"Doesn't look that way, babe! But hey, I'll just take your word for it, come on over here, and show me what a bad girl acts like!" Massie was becoming more and more uncomfortable with being in a room alone with him with every word spoken. He wandered over to the fridge, and began rifiling through it. With his back to her he began,

"Well, my name's Franky Piper, what's yours?" She was getting very fed up with him by this point, and couldn't decide between telling him to go to hell, or saying her name. She chose the latter, and piped up,

"My name is Massie Bl-," however, she was cut off by Franky.

"I don't need to know your last name," he laughed, turning around with two beers clutched in his long fingers.

"Not for what I'm planning, anyways." He sat down on the dirty couch, and looked up at her expectantly. She shook off her fear, and sauntered over to him, daintily setting herself down next him, so their thighs touched. He put one beer into her open hand which was shaking slightly, and placed his own, now empty, hand on her thigh. Her heart was pounding now, she hadn't expected this at all. This wasn't a Briarwood boy. This was a whole other breed. The age difference which normally didn't phase her, made her want to vomit. He looked her over again, hungrily, and then as if sensing her nerves, his facial expression transformed. His eyes were comforting, and his hand on her thigh felt comforting, not sleazy.

"Have I told you, you have gorgeous eyes?" She was taken aback by the change in him, but let herself believe that he was falling for her good looks. For once in her life, Massie was at an utter loss. The boys she normally went for had cute little grins, and would ask her to the movies. They'd bide their time, and MAYBE get a kiss. And here she was, sitting with a boy who doesn't know her last name, a beer in her hand, and her in his hands. She had lost control of the situation, and the only thing she had done was tell him her name. Her mind was running twice as fast as usual, so much that she didn't notice him move, until he was on top of her,

"Wanna have a good time?" he inquired, grinning playfully. That was her breaking point,

"I think you and I have a VERY different idea of a good time," she said snappily. His face fell, but before he could say anything, the blonde girl from earlier stuck her head in the door.

"Hey dude, there are some chicks out here wearing practically nothing. You better get out here before Dingo, or there won't be any left!" Then she stopped, and took in the scene better. Her eyes fell on Massie, and she said smirking,

"Oh nevermind. I see that won't be necessary."

"Nah," replied Franky,

"Maddie was just leaving." Massie felt her face get hot and she snarled indignantly,

* * *

>"For your information, my name is Massie. Too bad you can't see when you've got something good! Your loss. And FYI, any guy wearing makeup just isn't my cup of tea. Sorry baaaabe." She dragged out the last word, for emphasis. She made her way out from under him, and stood up tall and proud. The blonde girl simply shook her head, and mouthed to her, 'come with me.' Massie simply glared in reply, but the blonde simply quirked one eyebrow, and turned to walk out. Under normal circumstances, Massie would have walked home, but she didn't like being defeated. So maybe her first try was a bust, but she'd figure it out. She followed after the girl, while a group of three scantily clad jailbait groupies snuck past into the room, wearing huge fake grins.<p><p>

"What the hell was that?" Massie shrieked at the retreating girl. The girl whirled, clearly pissed off,

"Listen up princess, this is rock n' roll. I don't know what just went on in there, but I'll do my best to guess. You went in there thinking you're some sort of maneater, but all he wanted was a one-night stand. Get over yourself." The brunette was furious, which read clearly on her face,

"Who the hell are you?" Massie attempted to scream, but it came out halfhearted.

"Josie Dillon. I hang out with the band, who the hell are you?" She responded dryly.

"Massie Block. Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"How do you do it?" Josie, shook her head, and motioned for Massie to follow her to one of the unoccupied tables. As they sat, Josie looked up at Massie, sympathetically, despite her cheeks still being tinted red with anger.

"Massie, I want you to know, Franky isn't a bad guy. I swear." Massie's upper lip curled into what was almost a snarl, and she replied scathingly,

"Really? He's practically a pedophile, the way he was acting." Josie once again shook her head,

"It's what he expects from girls who come after him. He's a lead singer, his ego is massive."

"So I just let him what, rape me?" Josie mirrored Massie's snarl, only hers was much more intimidating. Through tightly shut teeth she seethed,

"He wouldn't do that. Did you even say no? I bet you just sat there and waited for him to fall in love with you." Massie's mind went over the past events, it was true. The second she implied a no, he waned her to leave. In an attempt to turn the tables, Massie asked snappily,

"What the hell are you doing with him, the way you came into his room talking about those sluts!" The blonde rolled her eyes,

"I'm 15, too young for that crap. We're friends, because he respects me. You went into the private room with him, it's private for a reason."

"I'm turning 15 in a week. So, I'm just as young as you, and what do you mean? Does he not respect me?" Josie almost laughed, and inquired,

"You've got guitar picks in your ears. Do you even play?"

"No," Massie replied indignantly, "he still should respect me. I'm a Block."

"Trust me. You're in over your head, kid."


End file.
